Secrets
by xSweaterGirlx
Summary: Sirius turns his back on Remus, upon discovering his true feelings. MWPP era, eventual SLASH.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Aside from a few smelly socks littering my bedroom floor, which may or may not be making a guest appearance in later chapters… It's all JK's.

**Author's Notes: **No, I have no idea where I am going with this. I just really wanted to write something where Sirius was asleep and Remus considers jumping on him… All stemming from this thing that happened to my mother while she was at work the other week. It's best not to ask.

It's amazing how you can spend all day in a boiling hot classroom, willing the hours away, complaining incessantly of boredom and fatigue, longing for your snug, comfy bed up in the boys Gryffindor dorm, yet when you're actually _there_, all wrapped up in the middle of the long, tedious nights, you feel wide awake and just want to get up and dance. Well, maybe not dance. I would if I were as outgoing as James, as carefree as Sirius, or even just as plain daft as Peter. But no, I'm bland, boring, perfect Prefect Remus, destined to be the 'nice, quiet one' the teachers all have a special soft spot for. Who currently happens to be wide awake, twitching with nothing to do.

I cast my eyes all around the room, but see nothing. The inky black night has swallowed my entire surroundings, and I couldn't distinguish a bedpost from a mattress if you held me at wand point and threatened me with permanent attachment to Snape for the rest of my life. The desperate, sleep-deprived part of me briefly entertains the idea of whacking my head against something big and heavy to knock myself out, but unfortunately, the much bigger, more rational side of my mind has already begun categorising and alphabetising the many extensive reasons why this would be a bad idea, possible concussion and unbearably excruciating pain being just one of them.

Sighing melodramatically, I violently toss the covers off myself and thump my feet on to the cold, wooden floor. I wait a few moments, but my efforts are in vain- Everyone is fast asleep and no matter how much I huff and stamp, that's not going to change.

Well, now that I'm out of bed, I figure I might as well go for a wander. If I happen to stumble over someone's carelessly strewn belongings on the floor, causing me to fall and shout, possibly awakening the others, unfortunately forcing them to join me in my misery, well, that's just not my problem. However, despite trying, I manage to make my way across the dorm and to the door in the pitch black, without even standing on something sharp, or even stubbing my toe. I 'accidentally' slam the door behind me, and listen intently from the other side, but eventually have to resign myself to the fact that this is set up to be yet another sleepless night spent alone and bored.

Padding down the spiralling stairs, the inviting glow of the crackling, yellow fire in the common room entices me, and I begin to feel that maybe relaxing in one of the huge, squashy armchairs by the fireplace with a good book might make good use of the peace and quiet that comes with the night. After all, usually I can't get a moment to myself, what with the first years constantly pestering me for protection from the pranks and jinxes from older members of the house, and the second years running riot, throwing sweets and chasing each other. The others aren't much better. In fact, I seem to spend most of my waking time trying to control James and Sirius. Not that they listen or anything.

The warmth of the log fire is so welcoming on my bare limbs, in my sleepless state of mind I appear to have wandered down here in just my boxers and old baggy shirt. Never mind, it's not like anyone will see me, and at least the majority of my transformation-induced scars are covered if they do. As I pass the battered couch which has been officially known as the Marauders' since at least second year, I nearly jump out of my skin as I notice a familiar, slender yet muscular body sprawled across the plump cushions. I stumble most ungracefully and my head makes contact with a tall lamp with a loud 'thwack' and I find myself in a tangled heap on the rug behind the couch. I freeze, wondering if I have awoken him, and my question is answered as a black mop of hair, framing delicately chiselled cheekbones and wide dark eyes peeks over the back of the seat

Sirius' sleepy eyes take in the scene, and with a snort of laughter, his athletically toned arms pull himself up and over the couch, and he crouches, bare-chested, only inches from my face.

"You alright, Moony?"

Despite his wide grin and amused tone, I can see from his eyes he's genuinely concerned for me. Pulling myself up into a more conventional sitting position, I force my face into a nothing more than friendly smile, desperately trying to disguise my far from platonic thoughts and haughtily grumble, "Nothing bruised except my ego."

He straightens himself up, and, despite snickering slightly, offers me his hand, which I grasp gratefully, glad to finally be back on my feet. As he stretches, I hear his spine crack and try not to stare too much, but it's so difficult when he's so temptingly close and wearing so little-

"You going to stand there all night?"

Sirius' silky voice wakes me from my reverie, I shake my head and obediently make my way to one of the armchairs by the fire. Sirius has reclaimed the battered three-seater sofa as his own personal recliner, spreading himself across its entire length, his feet hanging over one end and his head the other. Curling my legs beneath me, I spot one of my books on the other side of the room, and with a quickly muttered "accio!", the old leather cover is sitting comfortably in my hands. Under the pretence of reading, I watch as Sirius' eyes gradually droop downwards, his chest begins to fall and rise much more evenly and his limbs appear limp and relaxed.

I'm not sure how long I sit gazing at him, such a peaceful, tranquil sight especially when in comparison to his usual waking self. I often wonder if other people see him as I do. To me, every single inch of him is perfect and precious, every smile line and uneven crease is endearing. Of course, you could argue that my biased opinion doesn't count, considering what Lily likes to call my 'infatuation'. Hours might have passed, I don't know, but definitely nowhere near long enough, when the perfectly formed lips I so long to caress with my own part slowly and murmur, "seen something you fancy?"

Shocked and embarrassed, I almost jump out of my skin, but I manage to compose myself before he lazily opens one eye to observe me.

"Don't worry, I know you're gagging for it… Absolutely lusting for me… After all, who _wouldn't _want a bit of Padfoot?"

He mockingly runs his tongue over his bottom lip, a playful glint in his eye, and I have to wonder if he ever stops playing the fool just to be serious for once. Of course, I don't voice that particular thought, due to the inevitable "but I'm _always _Sirius" puns that would follow.

As is expected of me I retort with, "oh yes, Sirius my darling, my loins are simply burning for you, I don't know how I shall cope without your love", in the most monotonous and unromantic tone I can muster. Grinning and satisfied, he shuffles, rearranging himself amongst the many cushions littering his makeshift bed.

Despite my calm exterior, my heart thuds as I automatically turn a page of the heavy tome currently resting in my lap. I've no idea what the words say, or if I've already read them, my mind is wandering to a much more pleasant and scary subject.

"Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"Ah…Nothing."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Aside from a few smelly socks littering my bedroom floor, which may or may not be making a guest appearance in later chapters… It's all JK's.

**Author's Notes: **No, I have no idea where I am going with this. I just really wanted to write something where Sirius was asleep and Remus considers jumping on him… All stemming from this thing that happened to my mother while she was at work the other week. It's best not to ask.

The next morning, still musing about the previous nights events, or _non_-events, I realise that even if I hadn't have backed out, and had told Sirius, -everything-, it would be highly unlikely he'd remember it this morning, being as he was barely awake anyway. He fell into a deep sleep almost instantly after he spoke, I doubt he even waited for my answer. Not that I minded, this left me in a most enjoyable situation, namely gazing at him whilst he dreamt. I keep having to reassure myself I'm completely normal, and not a stalker. I don't think I quite believe myself though, this being the reason I find myself at lunchtime armed with a stack of books, sidling into Gryffindor common room, up to Lily Evans, who likewise has her nose buried deep in a textbook, defiantly ignoring James' attempts to catch her attention by making a show of himself in the centre of the room, playing with a snitch. "Lily," I hiss urgently, "want to come study?"

She looks up at the sound of my voice, and, catching the meaningful expression on my face, nods, stands up, grabs her bag and follows me out and down to the extensive library downstairs. After dumping our books and bags on a table in a hidden corner that we unofficially claimed as our own at the beginning of this year, Lily enquires with a concerned frown, "so I'm guessing this is about Sirius?"

"How did you guess?" Cradling my head in my hands I do nothing to try and hide the pathetic self pity practically oozing from my very existence. Groaning, I tell her all about the events of last night, eventually running out of steam, I close with "And I don't think I can stand it anymore. It's just too much, I can't just watch him, wanting him and never able to tell him…. I'm slowly losing control, one of these days I think I might just throw myself on top of him and declare my undying love. Oh sweet Merlin, maybe I should just throw myself off the top of the Astronomy Tower!"

"Oh, Remus," Lily sighs, "Maybe you _should _tell him. I mean, it's Sirius, surely he'll understand… And you don't necessarily have to tell him the whole truth, just the vague outline…" She trails off, and I know she's thinking what I'm thinking. _I'm screwed. _No matter how much I tell him, he'll never look at me in the same way again. But I can't carry on keeping this all bottled up inside of me. And… It's _Sirius. _All the girls in the school are after him. Would he freak out if he knew I like guys? I don't think so, he's pretty open minded, kind of in rebellion to his parents' stupid narrow-minded attitude. After a lengthy pause, I put all of this to Lily, who is awfully quick in reminding me that when my friends found out about my lycanthropy, Sirius didn't care, none of them did. He didn't judge me then, he didn't treat me differently or act weird. He, along with James and Peter, wanted to help me. Maybe I could tell him. But there are so many 'what if?'s. We spend the rest of our free time in this vain, and are no closer to a solution when the bell signalling afternoon class disturbs us from our private tête-à-tête.

As I make my way to History of Magic following a rabble of rowdy students, I spot Sirius's tall, muscular frame and head of midnight black hair, cascading down on to his shoulders, further down the corridor. Unsurprisingly, he's not moving any closer to the classroom for which we should both be headed, but is leaning against the wall, and my stomach wrenches with jealousy when I see a blonde, curvaceous Hufflepuff batting her eyelids up at him. Getting closer to the pair, (no not _pair, _that makes it sound like they're _together_), my mind becomes a battlefield, filled with violent depictions of the girl's head coming into _very_ close contact with a speeding bludger. But not quite hard enough to knock her unconscious. No, she must be able to _feel _it when the cannibalistic gnomes come along…

My heart soars as Sirius looks up, his face breaking into the most gorgeous, breathtaking smile I've ever had the fantastic fortune to be met with as he sees me nearing. I'm not kidding, I could melt right here and now, but somehow I manage to force out a relatively calm 'hey'. It's all I can do not to jeer and stick my tongue out at the girl when he says he'll 'see her around' and, leaving her, takes his rightful place beside me, as we carry on down the corridor. Instead I satisfy myself with a subtle smirk at the floor. Obviously not subtle enough, for Sirius elbows me in the ribs, and, winking, enquires as to the cause. Of course, I play dumb, claiming I must have lost control of my facial expressions for a moment. To this, he gives me an odd look which I can't quite interpret, but thankfully drops the matter. We arrive at the boiling hot, stuffy classroom, and find Peter reserving our usual seats at the back. James waltzes through the door ten minutes late, looking rather pleased with himself as usual, he obviously found Lily on his way here. He joins us, smug and relaxed, and he and Sirius instantly begin a muttered conversation about their latest plot to tormenting Snape. I listen haughtily, but there's nothing I can do to stop them, and so with one ear on their whispered exchanges, and the other on the dull drone of the teacher at the front of the class, my mind is fully occupied, thus causing me to nearly jump out of my skin with shock when Sirius hand not only brushes, but seems to linger on my leg under the table.

As I turn to gawp at him, he grins sheepishly and mumbles, 'Oops sorry, dropped my quill', before reaching down to retrieve it from the floor, without skipping a beat. He returns to confer with James, leaving me still staring. I must be going crazy… Surely that was a simple accident? Surely I'm only imagining that it lasted long enough to raise eyebrows? But inside my mind, all sorts of possibilities are rapidly blossoming, despite the tiny, rational part of me screaming to get back to reality, and an hour later, I'm still gazing into oblivion, daydreaming about where Sirius' hand may have wandered had it been given the chance, when I'm startled out of my reverie by James smacking me over the head with his battered textbook. Looking up, I see the rest of the class filing out of the door, and realise the class had ended. How time flies when you're having fun…

**Author**: Ok, ok, I know it's not particularly long, or interesting at that rate, but I want to update, and at the moment this is as far as I'm getting. Reviews are very much appreciated! (Even if it's just a few words…. Even if it's as brutally honest as a brutally honest thing which has just won the title of Most Brutally Honest Thing Ever… I don't car… Click the button and make me happy!) Anyhow, reviews make me update quicker, so there! (Nyah!)

xsweatergirlx


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Aside from a few smelly socks littering my bedroom floor, which may or may not be making a guest appearance in later chapters… It's all JK's.

**Author's Notes: **No, I have no idea where I am going with this. I just really wanted to write something where Sirius was asleep and Remus considers jumping on him… All stemming from this thing that happened to my mother while she was at work the other week. It's best not to ask.

Also… Special thanks to deathdragonz, whose helpful reviews and messages have been a great aid in the direction of this fic (and others) so far. And thanks to everyone else who reviews, it's so greatly appreciated, and always gives me the motivation to carry on writing 

And, I know this has taken forever for me to update. And it's not even a long section. I just got back to school last week, and it's basically taken over my life already. Hopefully I can get another chapter done soon. Sorry!

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_Sweat pours from all over my body as the lithe frame on top of me moans in unison, our hips convulsing to the same rhythm, his breath so close on my bare skin, his lips caressing my neck, I feel more than I hear the murmur of my name escape from Sirius' beautiful mouth, and as he reaches his climax, he chants it like a prayer, louder and louder, 'Remus… Remus…"_

"…Remus …Remus. Remus, wake _up!_"

I narrowly avoid having a heart attack when greeted with the image of Sirius' face barely an inch away from my face, shaking me away from my dream.

"What-"

"You were groaning, a bad dream I think. I didn't want to hear my Moony in distress. So I woke you."

"Um, ok."

Thanks to the faint moonlight outside I can see Sirius kneeling on the floor next to my bed, not, as I originally thought, just his head floating unaided beside me. After a few second of staring at him, I notice… _Something else._ It's a strange sensation, and one I've never experienced before. I try to collect my thoughts, and from the serene, neutral expression on his face, I realise he mustn't know. I whisper his name hesitantly, catching his attention.

"Yeah?"

"You, um… Your… Well, you can't know, seeing as how… I've got a huge duvet over me, covering the majority of my body but you… Um, Padfoot. Your hand is…"

Confusion snakes its way across his face, and so I stare pointedly down the bed, his eyes follow my gaze, and as realisation dawns, he lets out a soft 'oh!' before flashing me a sheepish yet, as always, cocky grin. Thankfully, he removes his hand from the material resting atop of my crotch, and I sigh with relief, no longer need I worry that he might find out how hard the short-lived contact has made me. Averting his whole face towards the floor in an effort to avoid my stare, a few velvety strands of midnight black hair fall across his eyes as, for the briefest and rarest of moments, his confident exterior fails. But it's impossible for me to miss the violent shade of scarlet creeping up his face.

"Well, then, I guess it's back to sleep for the both of us, then, eh?" Suddenly he's up on his feet, back to his usual confident self, apparently unfazed and abruptly unaware of what just happened. I watch him retreating back to his own bed, and sigh deeply, the burden of an unrequited and impossible love suddenly very heavy upon my shoulders.

Once again, I spend the night stuck in a kind of limbo, too tired to sleep, and am grateful to find myself bathed in the early morning light, hours later, still perhaps not what one would refer to as 'daytime' but there's enough light to act as an adequate and refreshing way of keeping my eyes open. I amble into the bathroom and splash cold water across my face, before emptying my bladder at the urinal. I swiftly cast a charm upon the shower, to prevent it from making too much noise, then step in and rejoice as the welcome warm water sprays all over my body. I feel all the sleep-deprivation-induced tension being swept away with the foam running down my back, and, closing my eyes, I submerge my entire face in the water, revelling in the immense feeling of absolute solitude from the rest of the world. When I finally feel like I might pass out from the lack of oxygen, I pull away, gasping for breath as the white walls around me swim into view. After switching the shower off and grabbing my towel, the lack of noise is unsettling, almost eerie, especially knowing that I'm the only one in our dorm, if not the whole Gryffindor tower, that is awake and alert to the world. I pull a clean, albeit old, white cotton t-shirt over my scarred torso, relaxing at the prospect of a whole new weekend ahead of me. The blue jeans I don seem to hang even looser than the last time I wore them, and, assessing myself in front of the full length mirror at the end of the bathroom, I deduce that I must have lost more weight.

Once back in the boys' dorm, I perch myself in the middle of my neatly-made bed (I had to make it before I got a shower… Being tidy and efficient never hurt anyone you know. Despite what the other Marauders might argue.) Crossing my legs beneath me, I grab the book on my bedside table, with the intention of reading, but the one thing in the world that can so easily distract me, happens to be lying, dead to the world, in the bed opposite mine. He looks so peaceful. So serene, and so damn… Sexy. Oh Merlin, I'm like some terribly love struck teenager. Scratch, that, _I am_ some terribly love struck teenager. A soft mumble escapes his lips as he lazily stretches in his slumber, and I can't help but wonder what he dreams about.

"Still moping then?"

Shaken out of my trance-like state by the sound of James' voice drifting over from the bed next to mine, I stare at him for a moment, before incoherently exclaiming that I don't know what he could mean. James looks at me sceptically and sighs with the air of someone trying to communicate the meaning of life to a toddler.

"Moony. You stare at him when you think no one's looking. You hang on to his every word. You tolerate his daft ideas and insensitive comments. You don't seem to have noticed a single girl since… Well, I'm not sure if you even ever _have_. Despite this, in recent months you and Lily have taken to having very regular private 'study sessions'. And no one, not even you and Lily, could study that much. Unless, after six years of knowing you, and being with you every day for a great art of that time, I am hugely mistaken, you would never mess around with a girl who's already taken. Especially not by one of your best mates. She also happens to be an extremely understanding person, who gives great advice. Padfoot might be oblivious to what's going on, but I'm not."

Well. Way to leave a guy speechless. The resemblance between a goldfish and my current facial expression is no doubt uncanny. Unsure what I can say, I begin tracing my fingers over the book in my lap, anything to avoid James' face. I didn't know he knew. How many others do? What if he hates me for it? It wasn't exactly clear in his little speech where he stands on the issue. My mind begins to work overtime, making stupid little connections, slowly convincing me that he must hate me… So, when his hand rests upon my shoulder, I gasp, and recoil ever so slightly.

"Moony?"

Cautiously, I look up at him, wincing, waiting for the look of disgust, the obvious repulsion and loathing plastered all over his face. But all I see there is concern. And maybe a little disbelief. Disbelief that I could be so dumb as to be worried about James' reaction. I should've known it'd be fine, should have trusted him, but I guess I can be a little paranoid every now and then. James' suddenly embraces me, before ruffling my hair as he stands. He doesn't need to say anything. Both of us smiling, he leaves for the bathroom. I'm thankful for this; I fear my eyes may be welling up.

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**Author- **Now, not to be demanding or anything, but... Review please! I am a desperate, shamless begger, begging you to simply click the button, type a few words of what you thought and click one more button. Not too difficult, really... And they make me happy. And usually give me inspiration and make me update quicker. So... Do it. Now. Thankyou :-)


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Aside from a few smelly socks littering my bedroom floor, which may or may not be making a guest appearance in later chapters… It's all JK's.

**Author's Notes: **No, I have no idea where I am going with this. I just really wanted to write something where Sirius was asleep and Remus considers jumping on him… All stemming from this thing that happened to my mother while she was at work the other week. It's best not to ask.

Again… This has taken me absolutely forever to update, and words cannot convey how apologetic I am for this… It's probably best to not to hold your breath for the next instalment, however reviews tend to give me inspiration and update sooner. nudges So feel free to click that lovely button and give me even just a word or two of you opinion. Thankyou! 

Pulling on a grey zip-up hoody as I cross the dormitory, I glance around the room to see that Sirius and Peter are both still asleep, but are beginning to show the wriggling signs of a soon-to-be awakening. Wiping my ever-so-slightly damp eyes on the back of my sleeve, I quickly make my way down the winding staircase. Already I can hear the sounds of Sirius, now fully awake, throwing things at Peter in an attempt to disrupt his weekly lie-in. A loud exclamation of 'oof!' signalling the end of Peter's tether, escapes the room in the perfect tone of Padfoot's voice. No doubt one of Sirius' more precisely aimed and forcibly delivered cushions just returned in a similar manner to its originator. I can imagine the look on his face so vividly it's almost startling. Elegantly messy black hair cascading around his face, the ends lightly brushing his strong yet slim, and probably bare, shoulders as a lazy, carefree smile dances teasingly across the same, beautiful face I see every day, always wishing I could take that face in my hands, have that hair between my fingers, and feel those lips upon my own.

But there's no need for thoughts like that. I need to get Sirius _out _of my head. I need to accept nothing could ever happen. Starting today, I will focus my attention elsewhere. I am going to remove all the thoughts of romanticism of any form from my skull. Even more of my time will be devoted to making sure everything I need to do will be done, surely constant schoolwork can't be _that_ bad?

I'm not fooling anyone, especially not myself. There's no way any of that will work. Downstairs in the common room now, alone again, I throw myself on top of one of the armchairs, my upper half hanging over the arm as I massage my head, wondering just what I did to deserve this. The grandfather clock next to the mahogany bookcase chimes, seven o clock, and I deduce that I must have at least another hour or so to myself down here. Everyone else in Gryffindor tower is far too sane to venture out of their dorms at such an early hour. For me, however, this isn't such a strange occurrence; there's definitely something to be said for the peace and quiet one can find in the solitude of an early morning.

An hour or so later, still lying in the same position, still thinking of the same subject, I can hear the half-hearted rousing of those students who know they have immense workloads to rid themselves of. Hearing footsteps on the boys' staircase, I'm startled to see all three of my best friends enter the common room. It's not that I think they're lazy, it's more that… They just don't tend to mix well with early mornings unless some sort of prank is involved. However, seeing James with his broom slung over his right shoulder, I remember about the upcoming match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Tensions are already running high amongst students of both houses, and I suspect, despite James' arrogant exterior, he's rising early in order to get extra practise in before the most eagerly anticipated game of this year's Quidditch season. Seeing me, he acknowledges my presence with a brief nod of his head, far too preoccupied with thoughts of broomsticks and tactics for anything more, before hurrying through the portrait hole. Without a word to me, Sirius swaggers across the room, then sprawls himself on his stomach over the rug in front of the fire place. Peter rolls his eyes as Sirius' hair falls as he lays his head upon his folded, hiding his face, obviously intending to return to his slumber. I peer up at Peter enquiringly, for he remains standing, and meeting my gaze, he gives me a sheepish smile. I don't have to ask. I wave a hand at the neatly-stacked pile of History of Magic notes on the mantelpiece, he grins gratefully; and with a "Thanks Moony, I owe you one", he too leaves the common room, supposedly on his way to the library.

After twenty minutes or so of some quiet reading, the sound of Padfoot's voice startles me- I had thought he was asleep.

"Moony… Just _what_ is it that you and Lily do? When you're off having your little study sessions? Surely even you two bookworms can't have _that_ long of an attention span?"

As if he senses my looking at him, he raises his head a little, his eyes fixing upon mine, cautious. I stare at him, unsure what to say.

"Padfoot, what are you trying to say? That Lily and I are… Up to something, or, or- something!" My tone incredulous, I stutter at the absurdity of the suggestion. Of course, I suppose it's not _that_ ridiculous, considering he doesn't know where my true feelings lie. However the shocked and slightly bemused expression on my face clearly tells him he's wrong, and he sits up, pulling his legs beneath him, an awkward grin across his face.

"Sorry, I don't know what made me think… I just, well, y'know… I know you'd never do that to James. Forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive, you bloody great fluffhead!" Catching him off guard, I throw a maroon cushion at his head, causing him to lose his balance. Grinning he chucks another back at me, and we become engaged in a war of the pillows. I throw one at him particularly hard, and he jumps to his feet, and I to mine as he makes towards me, I dash across the common room, and, diving onto a sofa, I narrowly avoid being struck with yet another cushion, which instead flies overhead. Riled by the near miss, Sirius suddenly bounds across the room, and before I know it, he's pinning me down on the sofa, both of us still grinning and breathless, caught up in the play fight, but the momentary pause lasts a second too long, and, and inch from his face, I see the smile slowly fade, aware that my own expression is mirroring his. Our two chests rise and fall heavily in such close proximity, both conscious of the fact that neither has spoken for a good thirty seconds or so.

I swallow nervously; the air is thick with anticipation…


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Aside from a few smelly socks littering my bedroom floor, which may or may not be making a guest appearance in later chapters… It's all JK's.

**Author's Notes: **No, I have no idea where I am going with this. I just really wanted to write something where Sirius was asleep and Remus considers jumping on him… All stemming from this thing that happened to my mother while she was at work the other week. It's best not to ask.

Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews. You would not believe to the tirade of 'you're evil's etc that I awoke to the other day after submitting the last chapter. Apparently that cliffhanger was just a little too mean. So, as my way of apologising… Here's the next chapter.

The tension is agonising, surely we only lie here a moment, but it feels like an eternity. And then…

He kisses me. He _kisses _me. That's the last coherent thought in my mind, before all forms of thinking whatsoever are completely erased from my head. I couldn't even tell you my name, all I know is Sirius atop of me, his lips gently caressing mine, his sweet scent engulfing me, his fingers entwined in my hair, as if he's scared I would pull away, as if he doesn't know that I would give perhaps all of my limbs just to have this moment last forever. Our embrace becomes increasingly passionate, the mouth upon mine becomes more insistent, and I respond just as fervently, allowing his tongue access. Whether he's aware of it or not, one of his hands slides down my body, finding my crotch, causing a moan to escape from between my lips. The moan is stifled though; he suddenly tenses at the sound, and appears to see me for the first time since this began. His eyes widen and he scrambles to sit up, both of us short of breath, both confused, yet he's the only one trying to avoid the other's eyes.

As id he's lost the ability to speak, his mouth opens and closes a few times, no sound leaving his mouth, until he finally begins to stutter, "Oh, my- I- So sorry, Moony I- No idea what… Gotta go, I- I'll- I'll see you around… I-" He practically runs out of the room without looking back, stumbling at the portrait hole, completely oblivious to the red-haired girl climbing through it, he almost sends her flying in his attempt to leave. Lily gawps after him, before seeing me still sitting on the couch, doing the same. As I meet her gaze, tears begin to roll down my face.

"Oh, Remus!" Without asking, she runs across the room and flings her arms around my shaking shoulders. Between muffled sobs and a lot of tissues, I manage to tell her what just happened. "-And now he'll never talk to me again!" I wail dramatically, before a whole new flood of tears begin flooding out, a far cry from my usual composed self. Lily raises my chin calmly with her hand, forcing me to face her. "Remus," she begins, an almost stern tone to her voice, "who was it that initiated all of this? Who was it that first placed his lips upon the others? Sirius, that's who. What he did was his choice, he's certainly not going to blame you for it. And I highly doubt he's _blaming_ anyone, anyway. He's probably just confused right now, that being the most plausible reason he ran out!"

"You- you really think so?"

"I _know _so. Sirius may have only just realised it, but I have had a feeling for quite some time that this might happen."

Although not quite in the best of moods, I at least feel a little better now and, thanking Lily, I return to the boys' dormitory. Once there, I splash water over my tear-stained face in the bathroom. Regardless of the pile of homework waiting to be done, I stumble over to my bed, lay down, and sleep.

I awake much later. The sky, I can see through the windows, is already dark. I estimate that I've slept away the majority of the day. It's a few moments before I remember the events leading up to my retreating up here, and the reason for my sudden and total lack of energy. I sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I massage my temples for a few moments, considering what to do. Various idea flash through my mind, I go with the simplest. I'll go downstairs and act normal. Of course, I'm not saying that's going to be _easy _or anything, but it's definitely worth a shot, right?

So here I am, entering the common room. I search the room, I need to know who's here. Some first years lurking at the bottom of the stairs, some more hiding in the corner, obviously trying to remain inconspicuous, no doubt they're probably up to something. If it weren't for my mind being so fully preoccupied, I should probably think about strolling over there and exercising my duties as a Prefect. The chairs in the centre of the room have been claimed by some cocky third years, and there's a group of fourth year girls hanging around the portrait hole, possibly getting ready to ambush the next unsuspecting male to enter through it. Aside from that, the room is particularly empty tonight. I suspect there's some sort of prank or event happening outside of the Gryffindor quarters that most of the sixth and seventh years are in on. I spot my three friends lounging about besides the fireplace. James and Peter appear to be conversing normally, however Sirius seems to be unusually quiet tonight. As I walk over, I hear Peter enquire "So just where did you and that Ravenclaw girl get off to this afternoon, eh Padfoot?" Sirius looks up at him, and as he does, sees me approaching, and stutters a moment before talking over-animatedly about this 'great, sexy _girl_, with wonderfully _feminine _lips and fantastic _womanly _curves', with whom, it would appear, he just scored. James and Peter exchange puzzled glances; he's trying far too hard to act casual as I throw myself into the chair on which James has propped himself against. He notices them staring, then tenses before letting out a guilty exclamation of "what!" daring them to respond with his suddenly hard stare. He studies his nails for a moment, and then rushes haughtily up to our dorm.

Both Peter and James look at me, as if I should some how _know _what's up with him. I sigh, and hurry after my beloved.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Aside from a few smelly socks littering my bedroom floor, which may or may not be making a guest appearance in later chapters… It's all JK's.

**Author's Notes: **No, I have no idea where I am going with this. I just really wanted to write something where Sirius was asleep and Remus considers jumping on him… All stemming from this thing that happened to my mother while she was at work the other week. It's best not to ask.

Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews it really gives me inspiration to carry on writing. And I owe a huge apology to everyone who is following this fic… I just haven't been able to update sooner! Still, it's here now, and I only started writing this part yesterday, and now I have a half term break from school, so _hopefully_, I might be able to get another chapter up by the end of the week.

This chapter is dedicated to deathdragonz, who, after always helping me a tremendous amount with the direction of this fic, I totally forgot to reply to for about two weeks. Here's my apology….

* * *

I wait, halfway up the stairs for some time. Stuck in limbo, not knowing whether to confront him or not, I dither on the steps, waiting for some higher force or being to tell me what to do. But there's nothing, no flash of light, no arrow telling me where to go, no deep voice that only I can hear. It's up to me. My decision. Like a condemned man being led to his execution, I climb the stairs higher. 

Cautiously opening the door, the idea of slamming it shut again, running downstairs and hiding beneath a pile of cushions is extremely inviting. But, pushing that thought from my mind, I slowly enter the room. The curtains around Sirius' bed have been half-torn down from their hangings, the red material now trailing along the clothes-strewn floor. I follow the trail of Sirius's scattered possessions with my eyes, coming to a halt on the boy himself. He's a mess. He's pacing, his back turned so he can't see me, I doubt he even heard me come in, I doubt he even knows I'm here, yet. His footsteps fall, regardless of the books and various other items covering the floor; obviously he's already managed to throw half of the room about, and now, with nothing left to throw, he stamps across the littered floor, damaging the large majority of whatever his feet find. He stops at the opposite end of the room, his head hangs and with what looks like a great effort, he raises his arms from where they were slumped by his sides, to take his face in his shaking hands. I watch this all silently. Does he even want to speak to me? Is it even me that has caused this? Of course, these are all questions which, had I the courage, simply asking him would provide the answers for.

But, maybe I've mentioned this before, I can't remember right now, I'm not courageous. I'm not daring and brave, I don't take risks, I'm safe, rule-abiding, wondering-what-may-have-happened-if Remus. So, stepping slowly backwards, I creep out of the room, and close the door in front of me. I stare at the door for a few moments, aware that maybe, _maybe _I should have stayed. Maybe I should have talked to Sirius, asked him why he was suddenly so angry and upset. But what good would it have done? If it _is_ me that has caused all of this, surely he wouldn't want to speak to me? But I can't help thinking that maybe the voice in the back of my mind might have a point… _Maybe all you need to do is talk to him._

Needless to say, I ignore the voice. I run down the stairs, attracting stares as I dash across the common room, not quite my usual composed self, I determinedly avoid all of their curious looks, but it's impossible to miss, out of the corner of my eye, the worried expressions on James and Peter's faces; I see Peter whisper something, but neither of them looks away. I can't speak to them right now. They can come up with whatever imagined scenario they want by themselves, they can always ask Sirius; why is it always _me _who has to sort things? Well, not anymore. I'll be the dramatic one for a change, they can figure it out for themselves for a change; I'm certainly not going to give them any clues. I can feel their eyes boring into the back of my head as I climb through the portrait hole, and in between all the chaos currently whirling through my brain, it suddenly occurs to me that maybe I should be hurt that they don't instantly rush after me, demanding to know what's wrong. It's not like I _want _to talk to anyone right now, I don't even know what I would say, but it'd certainly be nice to have the option.

I wander the corridors for awhile, one of the more-abused advantages of being a Prefect that no one questions this, before finding myself in front of a tapestry that, if my memory serves my well, and it always _does,_ hides a small space, just big enough to house a meandering teenage werewolf who simply wants some peace and quiet. I glance around, and content that no one else has seen me, duck behind the heavy wall hanging. I squeeze in, hugging my knees up to my chin; I've obviously grown more than I thought since third year. We soon got bored of trying to figure out just what purpose this hidey-hole served, other than occupying the time and thoughts of Hogwarts' four trouble-makers-in-chief for a while, of course. No doubt there's something, a room, a corridor perhaps, lurking about, just waiting for someone to say the right incantation whilst sitting here, but we never found the right phrase. Not for lack of trying, though. It's my own personal belief that some things in this school are meant to remain a secret, that no one person could ever know everything the building has to offer. Needless to say, whenever I put this forwards to my friends, this just makes them more determined that _we_ should be the first to know it all.

Pondering on this, reminiscing over years of exploring and discovering; I almost forget my current ordeal. _Almost._ My mind could never stray far from Sirius, my whole existence is centred around, intoxicated by, him. And now, without even knowing it, I seem to have ruined anything we ever had between us. I have inadvertently destroyed a friendship. But how? I don't even know what I did… Wasn't it _him _that kissed _me?_ It certainly seemed that way at the time…Is my version of events wrong? Have I, by thinking about it so much, somehow skewered what happened in my mind, and am now unable to remember what actually took place? Or am I over-reacting? Could it possibly be that Sirius is _not _acting weird…? I dismiss that thought as quickly as I acknowledged it, the expression on his face when he saw me before was impossible to miss. James, even _Peter_, noticed something. It's just the not knowing of what this 'something' _is _that's so confusing. I wonder what he's doing now, if he's still pacing around, or if he's calmed down. Something tells me it's more likely the former…


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Aside from a few smelly socks littering my bedroom floor, which may or may not be making a guest appearance in later chapters… It's all JK's.

**Author's Notes: **Sorry it's been so long since I updated! I just lost all motivation to write anything in the past few months or so, but that's all changed now that I've finished school! I have plans to get this fic going places, and there's another one (entitled "Whilst You Sleep") for which I have submitted the prologue, and which I am going to be making a proper start on soon. I have ten weeks of complete freedom from education now, and intend to use it wisely! Keep those lovely reviews coming please, even if they're just a word or two to let me know if you liked it or not, they inspire me to keep writing! (I never usually know what is actually going to happen in the next chapter, and tend to decide from the reactions I get on reviews, and if that isn't reason enough for you to review, I don't know what is. Cookies, anyone?).

Suddenly awake, I am instantly aware that my current surroundings are somewhat less than familiar. This tight, enclosed space; it's dark, though I know from the muffled footsteps beyond the tapestry which I have fallen asleep behind, that it cannot yet be nightfall. The events of the day come flooding back into my mind, uninvited and unwelcome, and I wish it _was_ night time, for at least I wouldn't have to face anyone. I could pretend nothing had happened. As it is, I figure it can't be any later than seven, maybe eight o'clock in the evening. After six and a half years at this school, I can tell what time of day it is, simply by the amount of noise in the corridors. The other Marauders always tell me that I have far too much thinking time on my hands if this really is the case, but I think it can come in handy. Like now.

I listen for the odd few mutterings and footsteps to die down, and then I pull the artful tapestry back, revealing an empty corridor. I straighten up, and brush myself down. If anyone happens to wander past, there's no reason for me to look suspicious, covered in dust, and hair flattened on the left side where I've been leaning against the wall. Now, what to do? I could wander the castle for a little longer, I could wander for a very long time, given my prefect duties, and then return to the tower when the rest of Gryffindor house are fast asleep. But, no. Not this time. I've had enough of taking the easy way out. I wonder if Sirius is still throwing things around? It must be about four or five hours since I was greeted with the sight of him wrecking our dorm. Surely he might have calmed down by now..?

Okay. This is it. I'm starting a new thing here; I'm confident, reckless, see-what-happens Remus. It's the only way to get things done. I'll go back to Gryffindor tower and... I'll wing it. I'll grit my teeth, and if he wants to pretend like nothing happened, that's fine. If he wants to have an argument about it, that's fine, too. At least I know that those are the only two real possible outcomes, and it's better to have to face whichever one he chooses sooner rather than later.

Although… Later _is _such an inviting prospect…

No. No, no, no. Remus, you are a _werewolf_, damn it. You can face a stroppy teenager (whom you happen to be utterly besotted with) and his mid-teen sexuality crisis. You _can_. Can I?

I guess I'll soon find out, for my feet are betraying my natural instinct to avoid confrontation as much as possible, and are taking me on the shortest route to the tower. I pass what seem like whole armies of suits of armour, my feet make contact with hundreds of steps, and the number of corners seems like enough to constitute an entire maze. Usually, the trek all the way up here takes forever, but as I approach the portrait of the Fat Lady, I wish with all my might that the journey would last a little longer. Anything to spare me whatever will happen next. Even my tongue is against me; the password come tumbling from between my uncontrollable lips, and the animated painting swings forward, allowing me access to crawl through into the common room.

Before I even have time to compose myself, before I even have time to collect my meandering thoughts, I'm greeted by the sight of two of my best friends (the two whom I have _not _recently locked lips with) standing expectantly in front of me; they've obviously been waiting for me and, judging by the looks on their faces, have been for quite some time.

"Remus." James is the first to speak, the tone of his voice solemn, telling me that something isn't quite right, and that maybe my plan of 'argue or ignore' might be on the menu no longer. I stare at him for a moment, unsure of how to ask what's up; thankfully Peter looks fit to burst and breaks the awkward silence.

"Sirius told us what you did!"

"Hang on, hold your horses, Peter, for Merlin's sake! We can't just go around accusing. This is Remus, he's one of our best friends, let's just hear him out. Remus… Sirius says that you, ah-"

"He says you're a bloody queer poofter and that you jumped on him and forced your tongue down his neck!"

Um. What?! I gawp at them both for a moment, Peter especially, seeing as how the look of disgust on his face indicates that he actually believes the utter bollocks that just came spewing from his mouth. I desperately want to say something, but my tongue seems to fail me every time that I open my mouth before closing it again; I must look like a goldfish. Something about this highly undignified expression must pull a little at James' heartstrings, for his expression softens and takes me by the elbow to steer me over to one of the armchairs in the far corner of the common room.

Wringing my hands, I appeal to James pathetically, "James, you, you don't believe that do you?" He watches me for a few seconds, and then his gaze falters, dropping to the floor, purposefully avoiding my eyes.

"Remus, I… Moony. Look, you've been pining after him for ages. I wish I could believe that he was lying, and I'll admit, though I could see your feeling for him, I never expected this to happen. Maybe it was the brief talk we had this morning… Did you think that because I was okay with it all, that he would be, too? I'm not saying that I ever thought Sirius would have a problem with you being… Gay, and all that, and I still don't believe that he would, he's not like that, but you can't just go around… Well. I'm sorry, Moons. It's just… Things won't quite be the same anymore. You shouldn't have gone about it like that, it's hard to believe that you did, with you being the logical and rational one out of us all, but I suppose your feelings just got the better of you. I don't really know what else there is to say."

James stands up from the chair opposite me, as if punctuating his words with this action gives them more finality. Have I just been ditched by my best friends? I don't know how to defend myself, I don't know how to tell them that Sirius was the one on top of me, that Sirius was the one who kissed me first, and so I don't even try. I just watch, I watch as my friends walk away, up to our dorm where Sirius himself is no doubt waiting for them, leaving me more alone than I've ever felt in my life.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Aside from a few smelly socks littering my bedroom floor, which may or may not be making a guest appearance in later chapters… It's all JK's.

**Author's notes: **It's taken me over a year to get around to this chapter, I don't know how you can ever forgive me! This is a small offering of peace, a little shorter than other chapters, but hopefully it will serve as a demonstration that I will stick to the promises I have made to everyone who reviewed this past year; namely, one day I will finish this fic! It'll just be a very gradual process. Lastly, I apologise for the angst in this chapter. Don't worry, I can't stand unhappy endings, so it will all turn out for the best in the end!

* * *

My hair is lank and unkempt. I haven't seen another human being in days. Not that I'm human, anyway. I'm so much less than that, just a monster in a human's body; I don't know how I ever expected them to accept me. Maybe I thought miracles could happen twice; they accepted me as a werewolf so they should accept me for being sexually attracted to men. Unless… They never even accepted me as a werewolf? Perhaps they just saw me as another of their little escapades? _Running around at night with a werewolf, what fun! Just think of the risk involved... And how brave we'll feel when laughing the next morning about how James so very nearly got his leg bitten off._ What a great sport. I've never really been one for Quidditch.

I can hear the sounds of the Quidditch pitch from here. Kids screaming in delight as the players whiz past them; the older students yelling out either encouragement or abuse, depending on what house they belong to. I have no desire to be amongst them; house sporting events seem so trivial when you've been abandoned by those you hold dearest, whom you thought you could forever depend on. There are some people you meet in life that you simply click with, the people you know are in for the long haul. Your friends for life. Do you know how it feels to have them turn their backs on you in an instant? Without a second thought, they have deserted me; my friendship means less than nothing to them. Every single memory is a knife twisting deeper in the pit of my stomach; every mundane mental image of James breakfasting, Peter squabbling with Slytherins, completely unable to hold his own in neither wit nor brawn. One of the others always came to his aid without fail. I remember one time in particular when Siri- Oh God, _Sirius. _I can barely think his name. Adhering to the fashion of the rejected lover, I do nothing to soften the blow. Instead I revel in the pain; I breathe his name, it's barely audible yet it stings with the burn of an overflowing cauldron. I watch as the warmth of my breath meets with the stale, cold air for a second before disappearing. Even my own breath mocks me; I can hear the wispy strands whispering: _I was here, I lingered for a split second and then was snatched away in an instant. _Asif I need reminding! I shout back at the air, my shallow voice reverberating around this ramshackle hut.

I'm dwelling in the old, neglected broom-shed, a small distance away from the larger, new one they built in the third year. Time had taken its toll on it, but that's not what finished it off in the end; I did. It was small, brittle, and weak; it didn't stand a chance when the full moon came. Dumbledore could easily have fixed the damage; any one of the staff members could have, but instead decided that a brand new equipment shed was more appropriate for an establishment such as Hogwarts. No one will find me here; this shed is forgotten about, mentally blocked out of students' sight. It's ugly, infringing on the otherwise picturesque grounds. People tend to ignore that which is unattractive, forcing it away. Out of sight, out of mind. That is how I shall be. Now that they do not have to see me, do my friends still spare even a moment's thought for me? They must be glad; I would have been a nuisance had I hung around the tower, forcing them to have to think about me. Meanwhile, they are all I can think about.

I ask my brain for a break, I _do. _I'm not enjoying this, I'm not torturing myself on purpose. It just won't switch off. Is there something wrong with me? Surely you should have control over your own thoughts? These images, James' disappointed face, Peter's revulsion, Sirius tearing up everything in sight, Sirius kissing me; they barge their way into my mind's eye, uninvited. Or… Do I force them? Do I conjure them up myself, on purpose? Could I really be that selfish? That screwed up, even? No one sane could keep replaying those scenes over and over again until they were so vivid it were as if they were happening all over again, could they? Maybe it's that thing, that _beast_ inside me taking over my mind. That must be what they see when looking into my eyes, bottomless pits of pure, base instinct. Rage, cold rage. That's all I ever remember of those nights. I used to stand in front of the mirror for hours on end, searching my face for outer clues of the wolf inside. Upon finding me, James would call me daft and paranoid, and I would believe him. Now, I'm not so sure. His words were empty, he never could have thought of me as human. I was never one of them. I was a freak, exploited and then tossed aside when they found something they didn't like. How can I blame them? I am not fit to be around. I should never again inflict myself upon human society. It's despicable that I have done so for this long already.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Aside from a few smelly socks littering my bedroom floor, which may or may not be making a guest appearance in later chapters… It's all JK's.

**Author's notes: **Once again, it's a long time coming. But hey, you didn't have to wait over a year this time! And once again, it's a fairly short offering. On the upside, I actually have plans now! I now know where this is going, so hopefully you can forgive me.

* * *

Gazing into the mirror, I can hear the whoops and yells coming from the Quidditch pitch. They don't really register; I just stare endlessly at the reflection I no longer recognise. The eyes have not changed, the face structure has not been mutated and distorted; everything is exactly the same as when I last checked. And yet, I feel no connection with these lips, these hands, and this body. Can they really be mine? The same lips that _did that. _It doesn't bear thinking about, though it's all that I can do. As punishment I force myself to say it in my head: the same lips that_ kissed _Remus'. My stomach convulses in response, though I'm not sure why. Far from feeling like I might regurgitate my last meal (I know that's what I should be feeling, I _know _it…), the thought of my best friends' lips upon mine encourages a far more worrying sensation; I think this might be what they call butterflies. That can't be right, though; my body must just be confused… Come to think of it, I'm sure that last treacle tart I had last night looked dodgy. That's the only explanation, right?

I'm an over-bubbling cauldron of a million and one different emotions; I can't disentangle one from another. Am I disgusted? The repulsion I conveyed to Peter and James may not have been entirely my own; I've been swarmed in confusion ever since the incident yet when I replay the scene in my head, my instant reaction is not one of disgust. I know that's what I should be feeling; I know_,_ because Peter's face told me so. I couldn't risk losing them, so I came out with the first thing that came into my mind. To save my own skin from Peter's revulsion, and from the risk that James, after some thought, might feel the same. I saved my own neck and traded it in for Remus'. People think of me as the brave one, of the two of us, but that's just front. All I have is false confidence and a swagger that could very nearly charm the holey pants off Snape. But Remus, he'd never have done this. Even upon confrontation with the others, he didn't argue. He never tried to tell them how it really happened; some people might assume he's cowardly but I know him inside out and I know he was protecting me, even after I betrayed him. He wouldn't tell them the truth because I didn't want him to. Which is ridiculous, really. _He's_ protecting _me_? After what I did?

Sweet mother of Merlin, never mind how I'm going to live with myself after this, I don't know how I can let Moony go through this; he's the best friend I've got. Sure, James and Peter are fantastic, but Moony and I… We've always had an unspoken bond; we're the pair within the group. A bond perhaps created by a mutual sense that neither of us really belong; him, a werewolf and me, the black sheep of the Black family.

Of course… That particular unspoken bond might have become, in recent times, a little more… Well, can I really bring myself to think it, never mind _say_ it? To admit to myself even, with no one intruding upon my most intimate thoughts, just me and myself; this should be the easiest thing in the world. And Merlin knows, now that I look back in retrospect, this – _this what? The furtive glances, the touches that last a split second too long, the desire to spontaneously kiss him; what do you call that?_ – this _tension _between us has existed long enough that I should be comfortable with it by now. Except that, whilst it may have been right in front of my nose, I never saw it for what it was until now. I'm attracted to another boy. Not just any boy, _Remus. _Sweet, kind, intelligent Remus… Who is Merlin knows where right now doing only Merlin knows what because of me and my big, stupid, blundering, thoughtless actions!

I've got to find him. I don't know what I could ever say to make this right; are words enough? To be honest, they're all I have. Well, I suppose, there _is _one thing I could do… Would it seem cheap, thoughtless? Would it only serve to make everything worse? Perhaps there's a way I could pull this off, without risking any more of what chance of friendship I have left with Moony. _My _Moony.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Aside from a few smelly socks littering my bedroom floor, which may or may not be making a guest appearance in later chapters… It's all JK's.

**Author's notes: **Regarding the layout of both the castle and the grounds surrounding Hogwarts: whilst I have a fairly good idea of them, I am not playing close attention to JK's version at all. I'm simply writing in locations as they suit me, because I'm lazy!

* * *

Still slightly out of breath, having hurtled as fast as my legs will agree to carry me through endless corridors and down vast mountains of stairs (seriously, when was Hogwarts ever this huge? I swear, someone's extended it since I last checked), I finally find myself outside. I welcome the cool breeze as my muscles burn, but waste little time savouring the sensation; there are far more pressing matters at hand. There's no one else around, though I can hear the chants of the entire school still going strong over at the Quidditch pitch. I make my way to the foot of the Gryffindor tower and, gazing up, wonder how I never noticed just how huge and prominent it is. It's practically the first thing you see on approach to the castle from the Quidditch grounds; you couldn't miss the sight of it even if you'd recently had an unfortunate accident involving your eyeballs and a very specific case of splinching. I gulp, and cast my charm, completely unnoticed by anyone else. Not that me _being seen_ matters one way or the other, given the nature of this particular act of vandalism.

Right. Well, that's that. Now, to find Moony. He could be _anywhere; _it's not like I've been keeping an eye out for him and have an idea where he may or may not be… If anything, I've spent these past few days mostly secluding myself in the boys' dorm, avoiding going anywhere that there's a possibility of bumping into him. Seeing as I have nothing to go on, I reason with myself, I may as well start in all the obvious places. I march off towards the lake, with a particular spot in mind; the four of us have spent many a day lazing beneath the shade of an old oak. Despite my haste, a movement across the other side of the lake, nearer to the Quidditch pitch, catches my eye. My heart leaps for a second, until I recognise the dark red hair billowing around the figure of a slender girl appearing out of the distance. I can't imagine what she's doing alone over there, unless… I brace myself, there's no way she's going to be pleased to see me of all people, and break into a furious run.

I as approach, Lily recognises me; I doubt I imagine the way her entire body tenses or the shadow that crosses her face. Before she has a chance to even open her mouth, I shout her down "Lily! Lily, I know I'm the last person you want to speak to right now-"

"Oh, you got that one right, Sirius Black, you callous little swine!" Lily's eyes are furious as she interjects, and looking ready to tear me to pieces.

"-and you have every right to hate me right now, and I wouldn't blame you if you cursed me on the spot, but please… Can you just hear me out?"

Her mouth already starting to form her next verbal attack, my heart pounds as she pauses; the bark of Lily Evans is nothing compared to her bite and I at least want her to hear me out before she curses me from here until next week. Hands defiantly on her hips, she seems to struggle with herself, obviously desperate to launch another tirade of abuse upon me. "OK, you've got one minute, Black."

"Nothing can excuse what I've done-"

"Oh, _you think_?" her voice absolutely drips with sarcasm.

"-Absolutely nothing, but I need to tell Moony… I need to tell him just how sorry I am. For being a prize prat, and for being utterly selfish, and for being unable to be the amazing friend to him that he's always been to me. I- Lily, I love him, OK? I think I have done for a very long time. I'm quite aware that I may have made irreparable damage due to my stupid selfish ways and for not being able to cope with my own feelings and would be lucky for him to even hear me out, never mind rekindle our friendship, but if I never try and make things even a little bit OK, well… Then it's like I'm justifying what I did and said. Even if he hates me forever and even if he performs every single Unforgivable Curse on me, I just want him to hear me say that I'm truly, _truly _sorry."

Lily gawps at me, and I now know what the expression 'eyes on stalks' looks like personified. I may have just rendered Lily Evans speechless, and let me tell you now, that ain't no easy feat.

"Um, Lily?"

"Sorry, sorry… I just never, _ever _thought I'd hear the great Sirius Black admit he was wrong. And not in such a passionate way, either. I mean, I didn't think you even had _feelings _like a normal person…"

Gee, thanks. I guess I deserved that one, though. "So… You know where Remus is?"

Quickly recomposing herself and finally ridding her face of the fish-like expression it had taken to wearing in the past few moment, Lily regards me warily "Of course I do. I'm just- I mean, can I trust you, Sirius?"

"Not to cock it up again? I swear, I'll do my utmost best. I'm not certain I can make things right, but I know I'll do anything I can to prevent them from getting any worse." The pleading tone of my voice sounds unnatural, but I'm not faking it; it's just that being at the mercy of someone else, especially a girl, is something completely new to me. I'm not proud of it, at least not any more, but usually I'm the one calling the shots and having _them _chase after _me._

Lily sighs and shakes her head in defeat "OK, OK… I guess if the power to make Remus happy again resides with anyone, it's you. Failing that, I'm interested to see what imaginative curses he can come up with." She regards me again for a few seconds. "He's in the broom-shed. The old one, I mean. He's been hanging around in there for days-"

"Lily Evans, _I could kiss you!"_ I lunge myself at her, embracing her for a brief moment but as tight as I can, then waste no more time in breaking into yet another ferocious gallop towards the Forbidden Forest, just outside the border of which lies the abandoned Quidditch supplies shed. In the distance, I hear her yell after me "Just don't you dare mess things up, Black!", though I think she knows that I intend on doing nothing of the sort.

Out of breath, once again, and the blood rushing in my ears, I find myself outside the wooden, run-down shed. My confidence suddenly lost, I creep up to the grey, cracked windows. I press my hand to the glass, fragile from many a stray quaffle having been struck in this direction, and clear a patch in the thick dust. I look inside, into the colourless interior, and it takes me a moment to adjust to the darkness of the scene before my eyes. Only a moment, and then I see him: my Moony, slumped on the hard wooden floor.


End file.
